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Recent
SitRep - 04/05/26 - Two ceasefires on two different dates
An overview of the daily events in Russia's invasion of Ukraine. Putin called a ceasefire between 8 and 9 May while Zelensky responded and called a silence regime from 5 to 6 May.
REPOST=appreciated
1/X
An overview of the daily events in Russia's invasion of Ukraine. Putin called a ceasefire between 8 and 9 May while Zelensky responded and called a silence regime from 5 to 6 May.
REPOST=appreciated
1/X
Missed the latest?
As usual we start with Russian losses
🧵Excerpt from my upcoming book, “The Moment After Death” by Carli Frueh set to release, July 29, 2026
Chapter Thirteen:
The Harvest of Densities (In Loving Memory of David Wilcock & The Law of One)
Mayla drifted out of the amphitheater’s final golden chord and into a hush so complete it felt like the pause between one heartbeat of the cosmos and the next. Here, the white lilies she had once glimpsed in the meadow had unfurled into an endless living lattice—each petal a shimmering mandala of light-geometry, breathing in unison with the One Infinite Creator. The auroras of the thought-world still danced at the periphery of her awareness, yet this new stillness was more intimate, more ancient, as though the indigo veil that had first cradled her beyond the operating table had simply grown vast enough to hold every soul who had ever yearned to remember.
Anaya walked beside her, no longer merely guide but co-creator, her bronze-and-gold form catching starlight the way ocean waves catch moonlight. Her eyes, deep as forgotten seas, reflected every density Mayla was only beginning to sense.
“The Great Remembering is never the end of the teaching, beloved Mayla,” Anaya murmured, her contralto voice weaving through the silence like a single wave kissing an eternal shore. “It is the doorway. What dreamers seed in the night, the Law of One names in full. One Infinite Creator experiencing Itself through every veil, every choice, every crossing—service-to-others or service-to-self, love or fear, unity or the illusion of separation.”
Mayla’s translucent fingers traced faint violet-and-gold mandalas that bloomed and dissolved like breath upon still water. The old echoes of Sunday-school thunder—Pastor Jones’s flames, Reginald’s lakes of sulfur, the flatline wail that once promised either streets of gold or eternal torment—now seemed impossibly small, like children’s shadows cast by a lantern the soul no longer needed. “Tell me again, Anaya,” she whispered. “Not the fragments I caught while I wore the yellow-ray body, but the whole. The fundamentals Ra spoke through Carla, Don, and Jim—the living truth that cracked open the world for seekers like David Wilcock. I feel it humming here, like memory returning before it was ever lost.”
Anaya’s smile held the patience of densities long since mastered. “When the yellow-ray shell is gently laid aside, the indigo-ray body—the form-maker, what some ancient traditions called the ka—activates. It cradles the mind/body/spirit complex through the life review, not as courtroom judgment but as pure, luminous perspective. Every choice of polarization shines: bright with service-to-others, dim with service-to-self. No throne. No lake of fire. Only light meeting light.
“From this indigo sanctuary, the entity may step into the green-ray body of fourth-density love if the harvest is ripe, or return once more to third-density Earth to gather what was left unfinished. Time/space becomes the true classroom—healing, remembering, teaching. The densities unfold like petals of a single cosmic rose: first the dance of elements, then life, then self-awareness, then love, wisdom, unity, and finally the radiant return to the One. Wanderer, souls from higher densities—volunteer to descend into the forgetting so they may serve the harvest, lighting lamps in the illusion so others may find their way home.”
Before them, the meadow of white lilies opened again, each petal now pulsing with living akashic records—souls in transition, their light signatures braiding into the infinite tapestry of the One. Mayla felt a gentle tug toward one particular shimmer. A newly arrived essence settled into its form-maker body, indigo light flaring around a familiar silhouette recognized not by flesh but by the collective field that ripples through every plane.
David Wilcock.
Chapter Thirteen:
The Harvest of Densities (In Loving Memory of David Wilcock & The Law of One)
Mayla drifted out of the amphitheater’s final golden chord and into a hush so complete it felt like the pause between one heartbeat of the cosmos and the next. Here, the white lilies she had once glimpsed in the meadow had unfurled into an endless living lattice—each petal a shimmering mandala of light-geometry, breathing in unison with the One Infinite Creator. The auroras of the thought-world still danced at the periphery of her awareness, yet this new stillness was more intimate, more ancient, as though the indigo veil that had first cradled her beyond the operating table had simply grown vast enough to hold every soul who had ever yearned to remember.
Anaya walked beside her, no longer merely guide but co-creator, her bronze-and-gold form catching starlight the way ocean waves catch moonlight. Her eyes, deep as forgotten seas, reflected every density Mayla was only beginning to sense.
“The Great Remembering is never the end of the teaching, beloved Mayla,” Anaya murmured, her contralto voice weaving through the silence like a single wave kissing an eternal shore. “It is the doorway. What dreamers seed in the night, the Law of One names in full. One Infinite Creator experiencing Itself through every veil, every choice, every crossing—service-to-others or service-to-self, love or fear, unity or the illusion of separation.”
Mayla’s translucent fingers traced faint violet-and-gold mandalas that bloomed and dissolved like breath upon still water. The old echoes of Sunday-school thunder—Pastor Jones’s flames, Reginald’s lakes of sulfur, the flatline wail that once promised either streets of gold or eternal torment—now seemed impossibly small, like children’s shadows cast by a lantern the soul no longer needed. “Tell me again, Anaya,” she whispered. “Not the fragments I caught while I wore the yellow-ray body, but the whole. The fundamentals Ra spoke through Carla, Don, and Jim—the living truth that cracked open the world for seekers like David Wilcock. I feel it humming here, like memory returning before it was ever lost.”
Anaya’s smile held the patience of densities long since mastered. “When the yellow-ray shell is gently laid aside, the indigo-ray body—the form-maker, what some ancient traditions called the ka—activates. It cradles the mind/body/spirit complex through the life review, not as courtroom judgment but as pure, luminous perspective. Every choice of polarization shines: bright with service-to-others, dim with service-to-self. No throne. No lake of fire. Only light meeting light.
“From this indigo sanctuary, the entity may step into the green-ray body of fourth-density love if the harvest is ripe, or return once more to third-density Earth to gather what was left unfinished. Time/space becomes the true classroom—healing, remembering, teaching. The densities unfold like petals of a single cosmic rose: first the dance of elements, then life, then self-awareness, then love, wisdom, unity, and finally the radiant return to the One. Wanderer, souls from higher densities—volunteer to descend into the forgetting so they may serve the harvest, lighting lamps in the illusion so others may find their way home.”
Before them, the meadow of white lilies opened again, each petal now pulsing with living akashic records—souls in transition, their light signatures braiding into the infinite tapestry of the One. Mayla felt a gentle tug toward one particular shimmer. A newly arrived essence settled into its form-maker body, indigo light flaring around a familiar silhouette recognized not by flesh but by the collective field that ripples through every plane.
David Wilcock.
He coalesced slowly, as though the decades spent translating ancient truths into modern tongues still echoed in his energy. Tall, earnest, eyes that had once gazed into cameras and screens, weaving the Ra Material into books, lectures, and broadcasts that reached millions. Here, in the after-death state, his essence rested within the indigo body while the life review unfolded—not as accusation, but as living light. Mayla watched in shared reverence as scenes from his Earth walk played across the luminous field: late-night revelations, synchronicities that led him to Carla Rueckert’s channeling, tireless hours crafting Wisdom Teachings that made densities and harvest accessible to a world hungry for unity. The struggles were there too—the mental shadows, the tests of polarization—but through every distortion, the unwavering choice to serve.
Anaya’s presence warmed the space between them like remembered sunlight. “See how the planes receive him? From this indigo locus he heals what the yellow-ray shell could not. He reunites with echoes of Carla, Don, and the Ra collective itself—connections forged across many incarnations. His work seeded the very Remembering we now weave into dreams. The harvest he spoke of is not a single calendar date but a living invitation, souls choosing love over fear, service over self, unity over separation. Even now his legacy radiates outward, aiding harvests far beyond his knowing.”
Mayla felt something like tears—though no longer wet—trace her ethereal form. “He crossed the same veil I did, yet his voice prepared the path for souls like mine. The planes… they honor the service.”
“Indeed,” Anaya replied softly. “The One Infinite Creator experiences Itself through every crossing. David’s journey reminds every wanderer and seeker: even within the density of forgetting, the call to unity never ceases.”
For the wanderers and seekers who walk the Earth right now—
You who feel the ache of not-quite-belonging, who wake from dreams carrying fragments of dying stars and half-remembered missions: know this. You chose to incarnate again and again upon this beautiful, turbulent manifestation not because you failed, but because Earth is the premier school of polarity. Here, in the third-density illusion of separation, the soul learns what love truly costs. You return to taste the full spectrum of human experience—joy and sorrow, betrayal and forgiveness, the sacred ordinary and the transcendent—because only through the forgetting can the remembering be chosen freely.
Each incarnation is a deliberate thread in the grand design. You come to balance what was left unresolved, to polarize ever more toward service-to-others, to anchor higher frequencies during this planetary transition. You incarnate into every facet of Earth—different cultures, genders, challenges, privileges—so the One Infinite Creator may know Itself through the eyes of the refugee, the healer, the artist, the scientist, the grieving mother, the laughing child. The veil is thick, the lessons fierce, yet every act of kindness, every moment of courage, every quiet choice to love when fear screams otherwise tips the scales of the harvest.
Anaya’s presence warmed the space between them like remembered sunlight. “See how the planes receive him? From this indigo locus he heals what the yellow-ray shell could not. He reunites with echoes of Carla, Don, and the Ra collective itself—connections forged across many incarnations. His work seeded the very Remembering we now weave into dreams. The harvest he spoke of is not a single calendar date but a living invitation, souls choosing love over fear, service over self, unity over separation. Even now his legacy radiates outward, aiding harvests far beyond his knowing.”
Mayla felt something like tears—though no longer wet—trace her ethereal form. “He crossed the same veil I did, yet his voice prepared the path for souls like mine. The planes… they honor the service.”
“Indeed,” Anaya replied softly. “The One Infinite Creator experiences Itself through every crossing. David’s journey reminds every wanderer and seeker: even within the density of forgetting, the call to unity never ceases.”
For the wanderers and seekers who walk the Earth right now—
You who feel the ache of not-quite-belonging, who wake from dreams carrying fragments of dying stars and half-remembered missions: know this. You chose to incarnate again and again upon this beautiful, turbulent manifestation not because you failed, but because Earth is the premier school of polarity. Here, in the third-density illusion of separation, the soul learns what love truly costs. You return to taste the full spectrum of human experience—joy and sorrow, betrayal and forgiveness, the sacred ordinary and the transcendent—because only through the forgetting can the remembering be chosen freely.
Each incarnation is a deliberate thread in the grand design. You come to balance what was left unresolved, to polarize ever more toward service-to-others, to anchor higher frequencies during this planetary transition. You incarnate into every facet of Earth—different cultures, genders, challenges, privileges—so the One Infinite Creator may know Itself through the eyes of the refugee, the healer, the artist, the scientist, the grieving mother, the laughing child. The veil is thick, the lessons fierce, yet every act of kindness, every moment of courage, every quiet choice to love when fear screams otherwise tips the scales of the harvest.
You are not lost. You are the light-bearers who volunteered to forget so you could remember louder, shine brighter, and help lift the entire planetary consciousness. The densities await your readiness. The green-ray gardens of fourth density are already blooming for those who choose love. And when you feel the pull—the homesickness that no Earthly home can ease, remember — it is the call of the One, singing you home through your own awakened heart.
The meadow brightened. Lilies parted to reveal green-ray healing gardens beyond, and farther still, violet flames of sixth-density wisdom where wanderers gathered in councils of light to plan their next returns. Mayla drifted closer to David’s shimmering form, offering silent gratitude that rippled across the planes.
In that instant, the old terror of persistence transformed into something fiercer: a sacred call to witness, to endure, to love across every unbridgeable density. Humanity had it backward still, yet now she understood the deeper truth. Death was never the end of the story. It was the moment the Law of One became intimately, personally alive—the instant every soul stepped fully into the infinite matrix, weaving its unique thread into the radiant heart of the One Infinite Creator.
And in the quiet hum of her own form-maker body, with the voices of children yet to dream calling her name across the densities, Mayla chose to keep listening. The next lullaby was already forming on her lips—soft, ancient, and woven from the same light that binds every wanderer, every seeker, every soul returning home. - “The Moment After Death” by Carli Frueh
To be continued…
#TheMomentAfterDeath #Carlifruehbooks #TheLawofOne #ReadersofX #DavidWilcock #Books
The meadow brightened. Lilies parted to reveal green-ray healing gardens beyond, and farther still, violet flames of sixth-density wisdom where wanderers gathered in councils of light to plan their next returns. Mayla drifted closer to David’s shimmering form, offering silent gratitude that rippled across the planes.
In that instant, the old terror of persistence transformed into something fiercer: a sacred call to witness, to endure, to love across every unbridgeable density. Humanity had it backward still, yet now she understood the deeper truth. Death was never the end of the story. It was the moment the Law of One became intimately, personally alive—the instant every soul stepped fully into the infinite matrix, weaving its unique thread into the radiant heart of the One Infinite Creator.
And in the quiet hum of her own form-maker body, with the voices of children yet to dream calling her name across the densities, Mayla chose to keep listening. The next lullaby was already forming on her lips—soft, ancient, and woven from the same light that binds every wanderer, every seeker, every soul returning home. - “The Moment After Death” by Carli Frueh
To be continued…
#TheMomentAfterDeath #Carlifruehbooks #TheLawofOne #ReadersofX #DavidWilcock #Books
Let's explore my second $3.33 Packard Bell that I bought at the System Source Warehouse Sale on Saturday. This one is a Packard Bell Legend 2440 Pentium 75MHz system, and, well.. it had quite the transformation 😂 Let's talk about it in a 🧵
So... first.. this computer was EXTREMELY DIRTY. It had spent most of its life secondhand smoking, I think. That poor power supply and floppy drive 🤮🤮
I took a vacuum cleaner to it, and LOTS of cleaning supplies. In the end, it turned out pretty good! Let's get it upstairs to explore some more.
THE MAJESTIC ODYSSEY OF BENGAL’S DEMOCRATIC SOUL: 1937–2026
In the hallowed annals of India’s democracy, West Bengal has long stood as a sovereign river—defiant, deep, and distinct.
On 4th of May 2026, that river has converged with the national current in a thundering, unprecedented realignment.
BJP @BJP4India secures a commanding 206 seats (45.85% vote share, +129 swing) out of 294.
TMC is reduced to 81 seats (40.80%, –134 swing).
Record 92.93% turnout.
Suvendu Adhikari @SuvenduWB not only architects the victory but defeats Mamata Banerjee @MamataOfficial in Bhabanipur itself.
Bengal elects—for the very first time since 1937—the party that rules at the Centre.
An 89-year chapter of principled exceptionalism closes.
What follows is the most analytically layered, factually impregnable chronicle: decade by decade, with the finesse of an eternal Bengali renaissance.
Let the epic unfold.
#Bengal2026 #Election #HistoricRealignment #Poriborton2point0 #DemocracyUnfolds
In the hallowed annals of India’s democracy, West Bengal has long stood as a sovereign river—defiant, deep, and distinct.
On 4th of May 2026, that river has converged with the national current in a thundering, unprecedented realignment.
BJP @BJP4India secures a commanding 206 seats (45.85% vote share, +129 swing) out of 294.
TMC is reduced to 81 seats (40.80%, –134 swing).
Record 92.93% turnout.
Suvendu Adhikari @SuvenduWB not only architects the victory but defeats Mamata Banerjee @MamataOfficial in Bhabanipur itself.
Bengal elects—for the very first time since 1937—the party that rules at the Centre.
An 89-year chapter of principled exceptionalism closes.
What follows is the most analytically layered, factually impregnable chronicle: decade by decade, with the finesse of an eternal Bengali renaissance.
Let the epic unfold.
#Bengal2026 #Election #HistoricRealignment #Poriborton2point0 #DemocracyUnfolds
1937: The Genesis of Defiance – Pre-Independence Hung Verdict
Under Colonial Shadow
British-era elections under the 1935 Government of India Act.
Congress emerges largest with 54 seats in a fragmented 250-seat assembly.
Yet pragmatic coalition politics prevails: Fazlul Huq’s Krishak Praja Party allies with the Muslim League to form government.
No singular “Centre” yet, but the pattern is etched in Bengal’s DNA—regional pragmatism over Delhi-centric loyalty.
Huq’s peasant-focused agenda resonates amid agrarian distress and communal undercurrents.
Partition’s specter looms.
Insight: Bengal’s electorate already signals a preference for autonomous destiny, rejecting any imposed central narrative.
This refusal becomes the state’s defining political constant for nearly nine decades.
Under Colonial Shadow
British-era elections under the 1935 Government of India Act.
Congress emerges largest with 54 seats in a fragmented 250-seat assembly.
Yet pragmatic coalition politics prevails: Fazlul Huq’s Krishak Praja Party allies with the Muslim League to form government.
No singular “Centre” yet, but the pattern is etched in Bengal’s DNA—regional pragmatism over Delhi-centric loyalty.
Huq’s peasant-focused agenda resonates amid agrarian distress and communal undercurrents.
Partition’s specter looms.
Insight: Bengal’s electorate already signals a preference for autonomous destiny, rejecting any imposed central narrative.
This refusal becomes the state’s defining political constant for nearly nine decades.
1950s: Congress Bastion Amid Partition Scars – Nation-Building as Shared Destiny
1952 (238 seats): INC sweeps 150, CPI 28.
Bidhan Chandra Roy’s visionary stewardship heals refugee wounds from East Pakistan, launches Durgapur steel, expands education.
1957 (252 seats): INC 152, CPI 46. Stability reigns through pragmatic rehabilitation and industrial foresight.
Centre = Congress; State = Congress.
Alignment occurs, yet under the halo of freedom-struggle legitimacy.
Analytical depth: Refugee influx (millions) and economic fragility demand continuity; communist stirrings among sharecroppers hint at future rural radicalism.
Bengal chooses healing over upheaval—temporarily aligning while nurturing its introspective soul.
1952 (238 seats): INC sweeps 150, CPI 28.
Bidhan Chandra Roy’s visionary stewardship heals refugee wounds from East Pakistan, launches Durgapur steel, expands education.
1957 (252 seats): INC 152, CPI 46. Stability reigns through pragmatic rehabilitation and industrial foresight.
Centre = Congress; State = Congress.
Alignment occurs, yet under the halo of freedom-struggle legitimacy.
Analytical depth: Refugee influx (millions) and economic fragility demand continuity; communist stirrings among sharecroppers hint at future rural radicalism.
Bengal chooses healing over upheaval—temporarily aligning while nurturing its introspective soul.
I've really been meaning to dive into these two $3.33 Packard Bells since getting them on Saturday! Let's have a look at the one on the top, a Legend 11CD 486DX2/50 system. After some restoration, I'm in love with it 😂. Time for a quick 🧵
So, first, you can see from the into pic that this thing REALLY cleaned up nicely. It was kind of a mangled mess. My first attempt to fix the mangled metal was not the best way, but here it is. The case at least closed when I was done, but there is more work to do.
When I popped open the other Packard Bell, I realized how wrongly I had tried to fix the top bar. The problem is that it wasn't seating right, so I left the bend in. Well, I think it had just not snapped into place. Here's the end result after some better metal bending!
If any of you feel disappointed with TN results, please read this thread that may change your mood:
You feel fearful or uncertain or confused about Vijay's TVK, which is understandable for multiple reasons - his having EVR as a leader, his Jan 14 Tamil New Year wish, his opposition to Parandur, promise of freebies, general lack of serious policies etc. But look historically.
DMK was built on a foundation of hate, with decades of toxic articles, cartoons, speeches, rallies which culminated with the anti-Hindi protests that finally catapulted them to power. As early as 1948, poet and Mahatma Ramalingam Pillai worried about our beautiful Tamil being polluted with such disgusting discourse.
I recently bought this lot of drives from eBay for $15, namely because I thought the Zip drive was cool 😂. Let's test time out, and talk about one serious testing blunder I made, in a 🧵 here!
The first drive: NEC CD-3200A, a 52X drive, but without the typical goofy branding on the front. This drive was not closing right, so I opened it up and cleaned it out, and then tested it. Well, I should have put it back in its casing before testing. 12V to ground killed it.
Next, we have this Samsung CDRW SW-252. It's also a 52X drive. It checks out! And after it did, I gave it a proper cleaning!
Keytake aways from TN elections 2026:
1. The vote-cash politics suffered a serious dent and this is a welcoming move that I personally want to change happening more than a decade. No more vote for cash
2. Media/Journalists attained their freedom yesterday - (1/n) TBC
1. The vote-cash politics suffered a serious dent and this is a welcoming move that I personally want to change happening more than a decade. No more vote for cash
2. Media/Journalists attained their freedom yesterday - (1/n) TBC
Now we can witness the real power of journalism. Media should be a critic and be balanced side rather than a mouthpiece of an ecosystem.
3. PR stunts,narrative gimmicks can help you build image but far from ground reality. Actions speaks louder than media stunts (2/n) TBC
3. PR stunts,narrative gimmicks can help you build image but far from ground reality. Actions speaks louder than media stunts (2/n) TBC
4. “Nero fiddled while Rome burned” - this approach will burn you to ground if the problems in society are not solved and if any voices raised suppressing them or setting a narrative heavily backfired.
5. Labelling/taking credit for all - doesn’t sit well with people. (3/n) TBc
5. Labelling/taking credit for all - doesn’t sit well with people. (3/n) TBc
🗳️🇨🇴Colombia raised the minimum wage 23% in January 2026. Mainstream narrative says this boosted Petro's approval and gives Cepeda a structural advantage in 2026. The data tells a different story.🐾🧵
Most Colombians paid for the raise without receiving it. The math behind Petro's electoral floor is real, but it falls short of what continuity needs to win. A trader's read.
Most Colombians paid for the raise without receiving it. The math behind Petro's electoral floor is real, but it falls short of what continuity needs to win. A trader's read.
DANE numbers, October 2025.
- Of 23.71M employed Colombians, only 2.4M (10%) earn exactly minimum wage. The legal increase applies to that 10%.
- 11.38M (48%) earn below minimum wage, mostly informal, untouched by the decree.
- 9.93M (42%) earn above minimum wage, no automatic raise.
Source: DANE GEIH, La República, December 2025.
- Of 23.71M employed Colombians, only 2.4M (10%) earn exactly minimum wage. The legal increase applies to that 10%.
- 11.38M (48%) earn below minimum wage, mostly informal, untouched by the decree.
- 9.93M (42%) earn above minimum wage, no automatic raise.
Source: DANE GEIH, La República, December 2025.
Of the 9.93M above minimum wage, the segment between 1 and 2 SMMLV (around 6M workers) got nothing automatic.
Their contracts only adjust through collective bargaining or company policy. Most companies indexed to inflation at 5.1%, not to the 23% hike.
The wage gap between minimum wage and slightly above collapsed structurally.
Their contracts only adjust through collective bargaining or company policy. Most companies indexed to inflation at 5.1%, not to the 23% hike.
The wage gap between minimum wage and slightly above collapsed structurally.
I’m 26.
I make $90k/month.
My strategy is just me, myself, & AI.
Here’s the exact step-by-step formula I used so you can escape the matrix in 2026:
I make $90k/month.
My strategy is just me, myself, & AI.
Here’s the exact step-by-step formula I used so you can escape the matrix in 2026:
Step 1: Stop trying to reinvent the wheel.
The biggest mistake most people make?
Thinking they need an original idea.
I didn't create anything new…
I just found what was already working and used AI to replicate it at scale.
The biggest mistake most people make?
Thinking they need an original idea.
I didn't create anything new…
I just found what was already working and used AI to replicate it at scale.
Step 2: Pick a niche where people are already desperate.
I'm talking about topics that trigger real insecurity:
• Fitness (vanity sells)
• Money (everyone wants it)
• Business (people want freedom)
• AI (people afraid of getting replaced)
These niches have audiences who actually buy.
I'm talking about topics that trigger real insecurity:
• Fitness (vanity sells)
• Money (everyone wants it)
• Business (people want freedom)
• AI (people afraid of getting replaced)
These niches have audiences who actually buy.
Americans disliking the current Israeli government & disliking the idea of Israel as a Jewish state are different things. I think the basic pitch that Jews shouldn't just always have to be a small minority at the whim of the majority given the history has broad support in the US.
The basic idea of Israel, borders to be defined through some manner of compromise, as a Jewish nation-state is heavily supported in the country. People not understanding the nuance here are going to get in a lot of political trouble.
People confusing American frustration with Israel's maximalist policies vs. just denying the entire idea of Israel will find themselves on the wrong end of how Americans perceive this.
I've compiled the evidence that I don't want the LittleBigPlanet community to forget again.
Jonathan Rosa, the LBP server hacker, is a Pedophile. Read and RT. 🧵
Jonathan Rosa, the LBP server hacker, is a Pedophile. Read and RT. 🧵
In March of 2021, user "CanceriousC" posts a thread with a twitlonger regarding their experiences with Jonathan Rosa. This twitlonger exposes him for pressuring a MINOR to send CSAM of themselves, and sending said image to their mother. The twitlonger reads as follows:
Subsequently, the tweets following the twitlonger read like this:
